


Dorky Things

by romie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, just short dorky drabbles i'll be adding to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romie/pseuds/romie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jean Kirschtein's my favourite."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dorky Things

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was just a writing exercise because I'm stuck in this funk and h a I still am. 
> 
> I'd imagine the first drabble to be a modern AU, where they're probably not yet of high school age. That was what I had in mind at least, when I wrote it. And the second one' s a 'what if' type of thing that happened before Marco yknow.. left. Like, what if they were already baby boyfriends -tears-

**Secrets**

“I’ll tell you a secret.”

Jean’s grip slackens, and if hears the _thud_ of his game controller, he doesn’t respond. Loud cheering, among other cacophonous noises from the crowd, erupts from the television at his character’s defeat. He doesn’t seem to have heard that either.

Marco perks in encouragement.

He leans in close and cups a hand next to Jean’s ear. “I like chocolate,” he says. “It’s my favourite.”

“Oh.” Jean’s shoulders slump minutely. “Uh, I like chocolate too, I guess.”

He’s steadfastly staring at the television screen once more when Marco says, “I’ll tell you another secret.” There really is no helping it when the controller slips from his clutches once again. He has to keep his fingers crossed and cant his neck a little, just enough so his ears are toward Marco’s lips.

“I, uh, like you.” Jean could feel as heat resonates from Marco’s cheeks, and it takes him a while, but then he’s red up to his ears too, once understanding sinks in. “Jean Kirschtein’s my favourite.”

His character onscreen falls in battle for a second time and the crowd roars, though Jean no longer detects any derisiveness amid their jeers.

                                                                                                                                         

**Awkward**

His heart’s in his throat and he can’t seem to swallow past the lump.

It’s unfair really, the way Marco keeps his calm composure while he simply _sits_ there in wait, freckled and smiling and resonating this air of warmth that doesn’t reach him, no matter how much he grapples at it, because his nervousness is too thick.

“Uh,” he says, always the most eloquent when facing the partially naked boyfriend.

“We’ve got all our youth, you know, and even more after that.”

Jean’s expression falters and his gaze swivels toward their uniform, the 3D manoeuvre gears, and think _no, we really don’t_. He reaches for Marco’s neck, pulls himself between Marco’s thighs to revel in his space – _their_ space – and presses a chaste kiss on his lips. His lungs feel paper-thin.

“Shut up, Marco. Stop talking.” Then Jean peels away from Marco, eyes wide in consternation. “Unless, it’s what you’d prefer? Talking, I mean...”

Marco smiles with reddened lips. “Shut up, Jean. Stop talking,” he reiterates fondly. “Unless it’s what you’d prefer.”

 

 

 


End file.
